**

“Well?” Juls asks as we make our way back to the bakery.

“Well nothing. He’s not married apparently.” I keep a straight face but feel like I’m radiating from the inside out. Giving Reese a lunch time blow job has made my week and I can’t get his reaction to it out of my head. His widened eyes as I pulled him out, his face when he came, the feel of his hands in my hair. I shake my head and snap out of my stupor.

She laughs. “I don’t know who you think you’re talking to here. But I’m your best friend, Dylan, and I know that face. You like him.”

“I’m sorry, did you get the sense f**ked out of you back there? I do not like him. He was my wedding hook up.”

“First of all, yes I did get the sense f**ked out of me as I always do with Ian. The man is an Adonis.”

“TMI.” I chuckle.

“And secondly, you totally like him, otherwise you wouldn’t have cared if he was married or not.”

I shake my head. “Please. The only reason why I cared was because the idea of sleeping with a married man was eating away at me. Now, that feeling of shame is gone.”

She pulls up in front of the shop and puts her escalade in park. “And now that feeling of shame has been replaced with love?”

I bark out a laugh and open the door. “I’m afraid you’re mistaken. We still on for drinks tomorrow night?”

“Hell yes. Give JoJo kisses for me.” I wave to her before stepping into the shop, spotting Joey pacing behind the counter.

His hands are continually tugging at the ends of his hair and he looks thoroughly stressed and irritated. Turning towards the sound of me entering, he drops his hands dramatically. “For f**k’s sake. I have been dying here while you two whores played castrate the adulterer. What happened?”

I walk behind the counter to join him and down my now completely cold coffee. “Calm down, you queen. We didn’t castrate anybody.”

He raises a brow suspiciously. “Well why the hell not? Wasn’t that the whole point of storming over there?”

I’m about to answer when the shop door opens. Joey straightens up and sharply turns towards the door. “We’re closed,” he barks towards the customer as I fold over in laughter.

“Joey.” I nudge him and he smiles. “He’s just kidding, sir, how can I help you?”

The gray-haired man smiles and moves up to the counter. “Good afternoon. Do you have any tarts? I love tarts and haven’t had one in years.” He eyes up my display case and taps lightly on the glass with his hands.

“I’m a bit of a tart sugar,” Joey says in his overly flirtatious voice.

“Good Lord. No, sir, I’m sorry I don’t make tarts. Although, maybe I will. What kind do you like?”

He smiles sweetly as his eyes light up. “Oh all kinds. Strawberry, blueberry, kiwi, they’re all delicious.”

I giggle at his enthusiasm and pull out a notepad, scribbling down a reminder. “I’ll tell you what, I will personally make some tarts and have them in the shop ready for you by the end of the week. How does that sound?”

“That’s perfect. Thanks, sugar. I’ll stop in sometime on Friday.” He winks at me before turning and leaving the shop, the door dinging closed behind him.

Joey shakes his head at me. “Do you have to be so accommodating all the time? We do enough special requests as it is.”

I place my notepad on the counter and put my hand on my hip. “Hey, special requests are what make Dylan’s Sweet Tooth different from all the other bakeries around here. You can’t just walk into Crumbs Galore on Main Street and ask for something they don’t make. I like being approachable and accommodating. It gives me an edge.” He rolls this eyes but smiles at me, knowing that I’m one hundred percent right. Word of mouth about how customers can pretty much request anything in my shop has gotten me a ton of business over the past three years. I shrug and continue. “Now, would you like to talk about how awesome we are compared to our competition, or would you like to talk about how Reese isn’t married?”

His eyes widen and he stumbles. “Isn’t? As in he’s single? As in you can continue to f**k him?”

My eyes rake through the display case and I straighten up. “Hmmm, hold on. We need more black bottoms.” I move towards the doorway that leads back to the kitchen when Joey grabs me by the shoulders.

“Fuck the f**king black bottoms. You owe me at least an hour of uninterrupted gossip.” His face is red and his eyes are bugging out at me.

“And I will tell you every juicy detail, after I grab a tray of black bottoms.” He lets out a string of curse words and allows me to step in to the back.

I honored what I promised and spared no detail with Joey as I placed the cupcakes into the display case. He stood back, completely enthralled by my rundown of my lunch time office visit. I told him about how I caught Juls getting nailed by Ian on his desk and about how she had mistaken Reese for Trent. I mentioned how Reese thought my angry tirade was sexy and how I was going to yell at him again but opted for a blow job instead to properly apologize for my face slap. And I wrapped up with his words to me when he apologized for his freak out behavior at the wedding.

“He said he’s not used to sex getting to him like that? What the hell does that even mean?” Joey asks as he wipes down the glass of the display case.

I shrug and nibble on a muffin. “I don’t know. I was hoping you had some words of wisdom. It’s not like I’m an expert on this shit or anything.”